ccomplished, he asked himself? How far was he even yet from his
goal?

He gazed with drawn brows at the narrow walls of the tent in which he
lay, and presently, a certain measure of strength returning to him, he
raised himself on his sound arm and looked about him.

On the instant he perceived the faithful Hassan watching beside him. The
Arab beamed upon him as their eyes met.

"All is well, _effendi_," he said. "By the mercy of Allah, we have
reached the Great Desert, and are even now in the company of El Azra,
the spice merchant. We shall travel with his caravan in safety."

"But how on earth did we get here?" questioned Herne.

Hassan was eager to explain.

"We escaped by night from Wanda three days ago, the Prophet of the
Wandis himself assisting us. You were wounded, _effendi_, and without
understanding. The Prophet of the Wandis bore you on his camel. It was a
journey of many dangers, but Allah protected us, and guided us to this
oasis, sending also El Azra to our succour. It is a strong caravan,
_effendi_. We shall be safe with him."

But here Herne suddenly broke in upon his complacence.

"It was not my intention to leave Wanda," he said, "till I had done what
I went to do. I must go back."

"_Effendi_!"

"I must go back!" he reiterated with force. "Do you think, because I
have been beaten once, I will give up in despair? I should have thought
you would have known me better by now."

"But, _effendi_, there is nothing to be gained by going back," Hassan
pleaded. "The man you seek is dead, and we are already fifty miles from
Wanda."

"How do you know he is dead?" Herne demanded.

"From the mouth of the Wandi Prophet himself, _effendi_. He asked me
whence you came and wherefore, and when I told him, he said, 'The man is
dead.'"

"Is this Prophet still with us?" Herne asked.

"Yes, _effendi_, he is here. But he speaks no tongue save his own. And
he is a terrible man, with the face of a devil."

"Bring him to me!" Herne said.

"He will come, _effendi_; but he will only speak of himself. He will not
answer questions."

"Enough! Fetch him!" Herne ordered. "And you remain and interpret!"

But when Hassan was gone, his weakness returned upon him, and the
bitterness of defeat made itself felt. Was this the end of his long
struggle, to be overwhelmed at last by the odds he had so bravely dared?
It was almost unthinkable. He could not reconcile himself to it. And yet
at the heart of him lurked the c